Even the lines he used two decades ago to outfox the opposition come flooding
back, although on this occasion his competitors were a bunch of nervous
hacks with notepads. For any Hamilton fans of a religious disposition, this
remote outpost in the next to an industrial estate is a place worthy of
pilgrimage.

The clubhouse itself stands as something of a homage to Hamilton, with his old
trophies stored for posterity and his posters all over the walls. The
29-year-old seems visibly relaxed by the familiarity of the surroundings.

“It’s very cool to be back here. It brings a lot of memories back, a lot of
great memories here. It was 21 years ago now, which sounds ridiculous. I
remember my first day here, my first crash here, I remember when Ayrton died
and I was here. I remember my dad standing on the corner. I remember being
in the little pond that was in the middle quite often in the process.”

Kevin O’Malley, the manager of Rye House, is on hand for any names which are
on the tip of his tongue. The only people missing are Anthony, his
stepmother Linda, and his younger brother Nicolas; so often part of ‘Team
Hamilton’ in his first years in motorsport’s elite category but so rarely
seen now.

Back then, however, they provided the money, the support, basically everything
needed to progress. It is reflected in how readily he refers to “us” and not
“I” in relation to those cash-strapped days. He goes on: “My dad and Linda
they – she just gave up their idea of going shopping and get nice new purses
or clothes, and what women like to do, to keep me racing.

“She would be in the back of this box trailer we had next to a gas fire
sitting with my brother on her lap, and with a noodle flask. Not Pot Noodle,
it was Knorr chicken noodles. It was the best. We had it every race weekend.
That was the coolest thing I did with my dad – to do something fun.”

From his first radio-controlled car which he raced on a friend’s street and
nearby farmland, to £20,000 spent on his first year karting, through to
signing with McLaren aged 13 and beyond, Anthony was ever-present. The story
of his career since their split as manager and client in 2010 has been how
he copes as his own man.

Despite his obligatory sponsor-covered Mercedes race overalls – just one
indication of how far he has travelled – his manner is that of the excited
10-year-old in plain blue overalls who cannot believe his luck that today is
the day he gets to kart with his idol.

How does it feel to be an inspiration to youngsters, particularly black kids?
“I’m aware that when I was their age I was looking up to Formula One drivers
so I’m aware that kids are going to be watching. Ultimately I don’t want to
just be a driver, I would hope that the kids I saw today, I hope I have a
positive influence on them.

“Maybe after today they’ll want to come back and do some go karting. Some of
them were petrified, some of them were really quick. Maybe they will, maybe
they won’t. Maybe they don’t have the money. Just that little spark that you
can create could turn into a huge fire.”

If anything, Hamilton appears more comfortable and at ease speaking to and
encouraging the schoolchildren who have come to be wowed than the adults who
have tagged along to preview his bid for a second victory at the British
Grand Prix.

The very nature of the setting gets the 2008 world champion thinking about the
financial struggles it took to get him through those first few years and
those who are less fortunate. “A lot of talents disappear, which is a real
shame,” Hamilton says. “You’ve got so many wealthy kids now coming in.”

How to make it more accessible? “I have no idea. I’m sure people have tried.”
His own driving school perhaps? “I think that would be cool – having some
kind of driving school that’s different. For example have a place like this
and just opening it up to kids who came today. Let them come and bomb
around. Even if you give them an opportunity they can’t always follow
through because of the cost or the parents don’t want to spend the money.”

As Hamilton pointedly notes, the same cannot be said for F1. “Even in Formula
One there’s a lot of wealthy kids that have come through. I would be willing
to bet on it that there were kids racing when they were younger who were
better but didn’t have the money to power them through.”

One such competitor who could be classed as a “wealthy kid” – Hamilton does
not allude to him on this occasion but did so famously this year at Monaco –
is his team-mate and fierce rival Nico Rosberg.

The animosity has simmered down for now, although he cannot help say that
Rosberg was not his closest rival in karting, it was Poland’s Robert Kubica.
But Hamilton clearly still feels the need to right the wrong of the British
Grand Prix last year, when was leading but fell right to the back with a
puncture, and Rosberg capitalised to win.

As he puts it: “I’m definitely gunning for Silverstone. Last year I was more
hopeful than ever since I won at Silverstone [in 2008]. That weekend was
definitely gutting to not win, to not bring it home for the country and for
the fans. We have another chance this year and I’ll be doing absolutely
everything to make sure we’re in front.”

As much as we look forward however, Hamilton seems happier talking about all
he experienced here at Rye House. The purity of the environment, away from
sponsors and the glare of the international media, is one that seems to
bring out Hamilton’s warmest side.

There is a famous line by the Mercedes
driver’s idol, Ayrton Senna, in which the Brazilian says his greatest rival
was from his karting days: a man called Terry Fullerton who, incidentally,
also made Hamilton’s kart seats. The Briton seems similarly wistful.

“I do miss the simplicity of it because it’s just you and the kart. Karting
was just so much fun, because it’s wheel-to-wheel racing. It was just you,
the car, and a bit of the strategy with the tyres. Now it’s tyres, tyre
degradation, it’s brakes, it’s fuel saving, it’s all the different modes,
the switches, the pit stops, the start. It’s very different.”

Even if Hamilton misses the simplicity of karting compared to Formula One, he
can hardly contemplate what he might be doing if it was not motor racing.

“I don’t know,” he says, barely wishing to countenance the thought. “I
could’ve been anywhere. I’m sure I would’ve been lost. My dad wouldn’t have
allowed it and got me doing something. That spark of just racing
radio-controlled cars made a huge change in our lives. I have no idea. I
think about it today and I’m sure I would’ve been lost.”

Mercifully with the British Grand Prix on the near horizon, in a sport
experiencing varying degrees of tumult, the bug Hamilton caught at Rye House
all those years ago shows no sign of leaving him just yet. If he would be
lost without Formula One, then Formula One in this country would be lost
without him.